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Donkey chase!

We’ll, Dunkay managed to fit his plumb, furry body through a tiny opening in the back gate and got into the forbidden pasture with Stormy. The tank tried to follow him but is a bit chunkier than he is and didn’t make it. She twisted, snorted and tried to jump. She gave up and backed out while Dunkay stood there watching with a mouthful of grass. Sparky thought she could get through to the yard of plenty and squeezed, whinnied, stomped her hooves and got stuck. I’m standing there watching the performance as my eyes roll with the words, “oh brother” coming out of my mouth over and over. I get on the other side with Dunkay and I push Sparky’s head, forcing her to go backwards, freeing her from the trap (I was tempted to leave her there) as I tell her, “bad horse, very naughty”! Now I turn my attention onto Dunkay. We stare each other down for about 15 seconds, me with squinted eyes, his with amusement cause he knows it will soon be chase time! I step towards him, he steps back. I raise my arms to start my ‘famous crazy farmer lady yell’ and he turns around and trots to the back part of the pasture! The games have begun! I chase, he runs. I yell waving my arms, he throws his head back and ‘Hee Haws’ loudly mixed with laughter. We run back and forth as Stormy stands in the corner watching. The chickens scatter, feathers flying, the mama hen protecting the chicks as we sprint through the middle of the flock that was peacefully pecking away at the grass!! I get mad, he gets happy. He won. I left him there for Super Farmer to deal with when he gets home. Later on around dusk, I hear Dunkay roaring out his amusement as Super Farmer chases him back and forth yelling out words like, ‘Idiot, stop, come on’!!!! I quickly go outside to watch the show and they gave me my money’s worth!!! They ran back and forth for about ten minutes and Dunkay won! Super Farmer gave up. He came back to the house mumbling as he was scraping the poop off of his dress shoes, his tie flapping behind him. He gave me a ‘don’t even say it’ glare, so I didn’t. I silently giggled and gave a thumbs up to Dunkay. I will tempt the donkey out with carrots and threats of living in a cage later on.

This was from 5 years ago…Worth a repeat! Hahahaha!!


Watering mother’s fake flower’s

Fun with mother

I went to show off Baby Jeep to my mother. She oooohed and ahhhhhhed over it as I lovenly patted the Jeeps hood like a proud new parent. I took mom for a spin which was almost as exciting as Mr Toads Wild Ride at Disney World! I got her safely home after her adventure, got her settled in her comfy chair, made sure she had everything she could possibly need within arms reach, kissed her goodbye then quickly headed for the door before she thought of something for me to do that would keep me there for the next 4 weeks. On my way out she asked me to please water her flower’s next to the porch…I almost made it. So I get out the watering can, fill it to the point its splashing over the edge, went outside to water her beloved plant only to find silk flowers surrounded by curled up brown leaves and stems in a plastic green pot. I stood there scratching my head, looking around to see if I’m missing something. I go back inside to ask mother where are the flowers she’s talking about. She answered, ‘the pretty peach ones next to the porch, how could I have possibly missed them?’
I go back out to search for the fathom peach colored flowers only to see those goofy silk flowers in a worn out pot with other use-to-be-alive-wilted-plants that are now 99.9% dead.
Again I scratch my head that doesn’t itch, firmly telling myself that this can’t be the flowers she’s talking about when a loud annoyed voice behind me startled me out of my confusion. It said, “dont just stand there staring at my flowers, water them!” I looked at my mother, blinked a couple of times trying to think of a good come back. But the only words that would slip out was, “the fake flowers sticking out of the dead ones?? You’ve got to be kidding!”
Mother quickly replied that they’re not all dead, and the fake ones help to make them look pretty!
So, like a good obedient child, I stood outside, in public, at high noon and watered mothers fake flower’s as her neighbors drove past waving.

Dancing in the store!

So, I took mother shopping today in MC. She couldn’t shop in LP…nooooo…she had to go the Al’s over there (which I admit is pretty darn nice), to Meijer’s, and Lowes, then have lunch at Carlson’s for thier famous slaw dogs. We shopped at Lowes without incident, got lunch then proceeded to Al’s where I lost her within 5.9 seconds. Thus began the search for the little old lady who walks slower than a snail that seemed to disappear in the twilight zone of aged shoppers. As I moseyed on over to the shampoo aisle to see if there was anything new or exciting that you can’t get anywhere else, a fun song came on blasting down on me from the ceiling speaker. Well, as you all have figured out by now, I’m not your normal, boring, get it over with shopper. So I start snapping my fingers, doing a little side step to the beat when a young man employee
came around the corner and stood there wide eyed watching this crazy lady with a llama purse hanging on her arm movimg and a grooving, dancing for an audience of one! I stopped, gave him a shy I-just-got-caught-being-a-goof smile and went around the corner to continue my dance (after all, I couldn’t let this great beat go to waste!) I then noticed that my annoying cart that, of course, noisily clicked and shook every couple of feet, seemed to be in step with the beat too! So, what does Nancy do? She dances with her new dance partner cart, of course! Up and down the shampoo, soap, toothpaste aisle we shimmied, only to find the young man peaking around the corners spying on this ‘must of just got out of the looney bin lady!’ The music paused as I walked past the young man who was pretending not not stare at me to see if mother found her way out of the twilight fog. I found her in the freezer section doing a little shake, humming to the music which had resumed. EUREKA! After all these years of silly shopping fun, I realized my “can’t act normal in a store” personality is actually from my mother! What a relief to know. 😀

Dunkay goes swimming!

My loving sister Laurie Arion suggested that I take Dunkay to the lake and let him swim in the cool water on this hot muggy day. At first I was like….RIIIIIIIGHT…taking Mr King Naughty to the lake. Then, I thought gosh, I wonder if we, I mean Super Farmer, could actually stuff him into the Jeep (it does have a sunroof that he can stick his head out of). Perhaps, drive him to Stone Lake where you can launch your boat (he might qualify as such) and besides, we could never take him to the beach as he’d be chasing all the kids who had ice cream cones, candy, pop, a sandwich, or blowing bubbles!

I can clearly see this is my over active imagination which would go something like this…

I’m in the front pasture watching our hot animals push each other out of the shade when this not so bright idea pops into my over heated mind. ‘Let’s take Dunkay to the lake so he can swim and cool off, after all, Barb takes her mini horse there to swim…so why cant we take our donkey!’

I jog over to Chad who is on his knees sweating over his precious flowers to tell him of this great plan of mine that involves a ton of work for him! I talk a mile minute so he only hears part of what I’m really trying to say, then quickly walk away thanking him for agreeing to yet another ill-conceived scheme!

Before all my words knit themselves together in his brain to make sense, I’m standing next to the Jeep with a smiling donkey who cant wait to go bye bye!

My now grumbling husband grudgingly grabs the reins out of my hands, opens the back end of the Jeep and tells Dunkay to get in. You dont have tell Mr King Naughty twice! Dunkay scrambles in, sticks his head out of the sunroof and let’s out a HEEEEE HAAAAAW that you can hear all the way to the lighthouse! Chad and I drive down Waverly road with our donkey sniffing the air as his ears flap behind him in the wind.

At the boat launch, we wait for the circling, pointing crowd to disperse interested in the grinning donkey sticking out of a red Jeep.
We get him out, walk him to the lake and say, “Go boy! Swim!” Dunkay looks at me, glances at Chad, then stares at the crystal blue lake with all the little minnows swimming around. I whisper to Chad, “I dont think he understands, you better go first and show him how to donkey paddle!” My wonderful hubby who hates sleeping in the dog house, stomps to the lake pulling the stubborn animal behind him. Chad gets in and floats on his back, reassuring Dunkay that it’s safe, warm, fun, refreshing and he can chase as many fish as he wants! (Not to self, never tell a donkey he can chase fish!)

Dunkay galloped into the water causing a tidal wave to roll over Chad making him sink. That donkey chased every thing that had fins until the sun went down! Of course, Chad looked like a water skier who forgot to let go of the tow rope after falling.

When near-drowned Chad finally surfaced, he coaxed the now soaked, seaweed wrapped animal out of the water and back into the Jeep. Dunkay cheerfully howled at the moon all the way home as Chad told me over and over how he is going to fix up the dog house and make it into a man cave because he will never let me fast talk him into another hair brained scheme again…ever!

That said, I have been thinking about Winter and how much fun it would be to take our not-so-mini pig sledding. Hmmmm.

Turkey gobbles at children!

So, I’m sitting here working on Ebay with no radio or TV on, enjoying the peace and quiet, the windows are open with a cool breeze gently blowing through. But Bob the turkey keeps gobbling. I’ve never heard him goggle so dang much. I decided to stop and listen, watching him through the window. He stands at the gate and just keeps goggling every couple of minutes. Then it dawned on me…the kids across the street are outside playing and like most kids, they feel the need to scream and play loud. Well, everytime one of the kiddos yells, Bob gobbles! So…my peaceful, quiet morning is now filled with screaming children as a large turkey gobbles at them. Our other turkey Gobble Gobble usually stands at the fence and barks at the neighbors when they’re outside, and now Bob gobbles every time he hears them playing. Really? I swear…only us!

Dunkey strikes again!

So, I’m outside herding a few llamas around, lecturing the pig, throwing feed to the duck in a way that Remi can’t ‘pig’ it up. It’s a farm dance I do everyday…the pig runs one way, the duck waddles in the opposite direction with me doing a few fancy smancy side steps in the middle trying to delicately toss grain into the air past the pig before her non-stop vacuum gets wind that I’m trying to out smart her once more while hoping the duck gets a few bites before Remi whips around and demandingly stomps back towards us.

Then, my donkey spidey sense kicked in and I thought I better look around to see what Dunkay is getting into. Of course, my persistently naughty donkey never, ever, let’s me down! I saw him standing next to one of my freshly displayed 4th of July ribbons hanging out of his mouth! Yes, that’s right, he pulled part of it through the fence and was eating it! At first I was in denial because, I thought, he wouldn’t dare eat my ribbon! But nope, he was chewing away. By the time I got out there to do my best finger pointing scolding, he gulped most of it down.

He then looked past me, stopped chewing, squinted his already beady eyes, pawed the ground and pushed past me! I slapped my hand to my forehead saying to myself ‘oh no, not again’, because I realized that out of my frustration, I left the gate to freedom open! Dunkay took off like a speeding bullet and galloped to the gate! Yep, that’s right, you guessed it…I RAN with the donkey to the opening of freedom yelling out the only farm word they understand, but chose to ignore…”NOOOOOO”, as a red, white, and blue ribbon flapped out of the side of his mouth!

My only consolation prize is that I beat Dunkay to the gate and didn’t have to chase a patriotic donkey around our neighborhood, ribbon and all. Note the pics provided to prove that I dont make this stuff up!

Bitty Boy 2 the attack cat

I’m beginning to look like a walking scratching post, or like I was lost in the jungle for months and had to fight my way through thorny bushes, or had a cat fight with a mountain lion, or rolled down a hill with stickes!

Yep…THAT cat, Bitty Boy2. He wants to attack me when I’m sitting, walking, laying down, standing, washing dishes, watering my flowers, feeding the large or small animals, doing laundry, putting shoes on (he loooooooves shoe strings!), snuggling with Mr. Growly, reading, and posting pics. Ah, but the worst, he waits for me to get out of the shower and, if I forget to shut the door, that cat bats at me through the shower curtain, then I have to peak around the curtain to make sure he’s not there waiting to plant himself on my wet leg, thus making me slip!

THAT cat does his best sneak attacks when I’m watching TV because I never know from where he’s going to fly at me from! He could be behind or next to the chair, under the table, on top the mantle,the ceiling fan, poor Biscuit’s back, or from Chad tossing him towards me because he had enough of the cat trying to nurse on his whiskers. Where could he be? I find myself looking for glowing eyes staring at me.

Not to mention, my house usually sounds like a non stop horror film with cats screeching, doing their hair raising low growl at each other mixed in with the sound of an angry dog snapping his teeth together, or a woman screaming (me) from pain (tiny claws climbing up my leg), or a man’s voice loudly demanding that this horrible creature get away from him as he runs from room to room with a tiny fur ball of terror leaping at him, paws slicing through the air with its sharp claws protruding out and corresponding bells on his collar warning that soon there will be pain! Or, Biscuit hiding under blankets (never works, that cat knows which lumps are alive and which ones aren’t).

The only thing in this house that is left alone is Chippie! Our 7lbs of snapping teeth refuses to tolerate cats, or other dogs, or humans, actually, anything that breathes or moves! I swear this cat has Golden King’s (Bitty Boy1) ‘I must attack’ instinct wrapped tightly around his!

The only words I hear coming out of my mouth since he got here is, “STOP IT! NO! GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE!” Good gosh Martha, I can’t wait for him to outgrow his wild teenage cat years! Now, to get out the door with out new battle scars.